


Viper

by Jade_Wolff



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: AU, Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Drug Use, Horror, I mean it is a fanfic about Luke being a killer, Killer!Luke, M/M, Minor Character Death, My First Fanfic, Smoking, Thriller, Violence, i don't know how to tag, lotsa death, oh well, probably gonna suck, triggers for gore and violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-01-08
Packaged: 2018-05-12 14:49:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5669872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jade_Wolff/pseuds/Jade_Wolff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Have I seen you before?" The boy asked, bright emerald eyes scanning carefully over my face.</p><p>"No." I said, my tone cold and untrusting, narrowing my eyes at the boy cautiously, "Nobody sees me until it's too late."</p><p>Or</p><p>Luke Hemmings knows just how to blend in with the crowd, to his friends he's just an innocent, happy-go-lucky boy that would feel guilty for accidentally stepping on an ant.</p><p>Outside of his social life, however, his true colors come out...</p><p>***</p><p>Okay I suck (and not even in a good way)at writing summaries but I tried so yeh</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Noteeeee

I don't know how to work this, so watch me fail yay


	2. Headlines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I will make your life hell, detective." I spat, ripping the paper into careless shreds and watching it drift to the ground below the monkey bars.
> 
> "And that's a fucking promise."

I sighed, checking the time on my phone, biting at my lip ring subcociously before pulling the lit cigarette, which was held carefully between my middle and pointer fingers, and brought it up to my lips.

I closed my eyes and took a slow drag, feeling my body relax blissfully as I slowly breathed out the smoke.

It might be a bit strange to most people, considering it was seven in the morning and I was sitting on top of slightly rusted monkey bars at a long forgotten park, smoking, not that I give a flying rat's ass about people's opinions.

I always come here for a smoke when I find myself unable to sleep, or simply wanting some time to myself, which was more often than not in all honesty.

I loved the seclusion of this place, my so-called 'friends' don't know what I'm really like, including the smoking.

I'd already stopped by a corner shop to pick up the local newspaper, and after flipping through it I came here to have a smoke and calm down the flash of rage that came over me.

I hadn't even made first page on the damn local newspaper, second page isn't that bad, but I was hoping that once they found the third body they would put me on the headlines, but no. I got the second fucking page, who puts a possible string of murders that point towards a serial killer, behind the newly named 'head detective.'

_It's not easy to do what I do, I should be making the headlines! Not some fucking goody-two-shoes detective who got a promotion!_

My jaw clenched tightly as I glared daggers at the ink covered page, memorizing the features of the detective before searching the words for his name. "Head detective Thomas Clifford." I muttered, my words dripping with venomous hate, letting out a dark chuckle.

"I will make your life _hell_ , detective." I spat, ripping the paper into careless shreds and watching it drift to the ground below the monkey bars.

"And that's a fucking _promise_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's super short, but it's meant to be a teaser, I'll try to make the net chapter longer, my little butter monkeys.
> 
> Ima go school(gags), bye ya sexy faced fools


	3. Opportunities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "This is going to be easier than I thought."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still pretty short, but I'm in school and I updated so that's a good thing, I think lol

"Luke! You're not even listening to me!" The dark haired boy exclaimed, pouting at me as I turned my gaze back to him, a innocent smile tugging at my lips.

"I'm listening, I swear." I said, straight up lying, because I was far too busy staring at the boy behind him.

I knew that I'd seen him before, but other than admitting inwardly that his bright red dyed hair made his pale skin almost glow, and his vividly green eyes stick out beautifully.

Something about him.

There was just something about him that stood out differently today, and I wanted- no needed -to figure out why. "One second, Calum, I've got to go ask that kid about a project that we're working on."

I lied smoothly, putting a fake apologetic smile on my face before heading over to the red haired boy, grinning widely as I approached him, tapping on his shoulder softly.

He turned, his wide eyes gazing into mine as a smirk tugged at his lips, "Well hello there, handsome."

I bit my lip slightly to hold back a grin, and was about to say something when an arm slung around my shoulders, and I tensed when I saw Jared, my designated school bully.

"Sorry Michael, I'm going to have to borrow this kid for a minute." He said, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

I gave Michael a scared look as Jared practically dragged me out of the cafeteria doors, and into the empty hallways before shoving me away from him hard enough for me to fall back against the lockers.

"Well well well, I see you're as tough as ever, fag." He smirked, shaking his head slightly.

"You're the one who was getting all comfy with your arm around me." I said with a smirk, satisfied with the way his eyes sparked angrily.

Strong arms grabbed my shirt, slamming me roughly back into the wall before slinging me to the ground, a foot connecting roughly with my stomach before I could do anything to stop it.

I gasped for air as his foot continuously connected with my stomach and chest, pain firing through me each time he landed a solid kick.

I felt a fire start up in my mind, already worked up from earlier after reading the newspaper, and I just can't stand for this guy's shit today.

I rolled back away from his foot before he could kick me again, scrambling to my feet, but before I had time to do anything else, a voice cut through the air.

"Oi! Jared, back the fuck off, mate." The red haired boy, Michael, snapped angrily, moving between him and I, a long silence following as the older bully contemplated whether or not starting s fight with Michael was worth it.

Eventually he huffed, "Fine, that little fag isn't worth it, but eventually you won't be around to get in my way, Clifford." Jared spat darkly.

My eyes widened as it all clicked together, Michael Clifford looked an awfully lot like that new detective, and I resisted the urge to grin at the possibilities lauded out before me.

"Is that a threat, Jared?" Michael asked, but he didn't reply, just walked away with a dark chuckle, leaving me alone in the hallway with Michael.

The red haired boy turned to face me, concern showing in his beautiful green eyes as his hand gently touched a forming bruise on my shoulder. I found myself trapped in his gaze until he cleared his throat and pulled his hand away.

"Have I seen you before?" He asked, bright emerald eyes scanning carefully over my face. "No." I said, my tone turning cold and untrusting, narrowing my eyes at the boy cautiously, "Nobody sees me until it's too late.".

He shrugged, "Well hopefully it's not too, too late, I'm Michael by the way, and you are?"

"Luke." I said, "And, uh, thanks for stopping Jared." 

"No problem, that guy's a real dick."

"And not even the good kind." I joked, his lighthearted laugh making my stomach flip as a small real smile tugged at my lips.

"We should probably go to the nurse and have her take a look at these bruises." Michael said, his voice laced with concern.

I shook my head quickly, "It's fine, he's not as strong as he looks."

For a second Michael looked like he was going to insist, but then he simply sighed and let it go. "I'm having a party tonight, you can come if you'd like."

I raised an eyebrow in surprise before giving him an apologetic smile, "I would, but I have something planned."

He nodded slowly, "Oh, alright, well if you change your mind and want to party a bit on a Friday night, the offer still stands."

I shrugged shyly, and as soon as he turned around to walk back towards the cafeteria, I glared daggers into his back, a grin stretching over my face as he disappeared through the doors.

"This is better than I could've imagined, I want a way to make detective Clifford's life hell on earth, and his own fucking son goes to my school."

I rubbed my palms together before running my fingers through my hair, "Oh, the possibilities I've been presented, this is going to be easier than I thought."


	4. Infiltration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buckle up cause this chapter is insane, there's a heated make out session, a murder, and a Muke one night stand, I know I'm terrible, I wrote all this in school lmao.

Small hands twined through my hair as soft lips pressed roughly to mine in a heated make out session, my large hands wrapped around the girl's small waist, traveling down to her thighs so I could pull her onto my lap. I pulled away and mumbled breathily against her thin lips, "You sure about this? I am a complete stranger after all." 

She smirked as a reply, rolling her hips against my crotch, her hands holding my face as I softly bit at her bottom lip, breathing out a soft moan as she continued to grind against me. My hands moved up her thighs, and I reached down to unbuckle my seatbelt, flipping over so she was against the seat while I hovered over her, reconnecting our lips passionately.

She kissed me eagerly, her small hands around my neck as I pulled away slightly, "Is it just you, or is it getting hot in here?" I asked with a charming grin, kicking open my car door and stepping out of the car, bringing my hands down to her thighs and lifting her up, her legs wrapping around as she let out a surprised noise.

I pressed her to the side of my car, my hands on each side of her head as I grinded up against her, our lips meeting once more with just as much fiery passion as before.

 

**A Little Less Than One Hour Earlier**

 

I was still beyond pissed about not making the first page on the newspapers, but thankfully I had already been scoping out my next victim, she was small, probably 5'3, slim, dirty brown hair and grey-green eyes, her name was Elisa Mogery. It wasn't hard for me to pick her, I knew she'd be easy prey.

I located her easily, she was leaving work, she always gets a ride home, and she was waiting on the sidewalk, a frustrated look on her face. I pulled my car (a black 2014 Chevy Camaro that was given to me by my dad) over to the side of the road, opening the window and leaning over with a concerned expression, "You alright, miss?"

She gave me a guarded look, "I'm just waiting for my boyfriend to pick me up."

Liar, liar, I thought, knowing her boyfriend dumped her a few weeks back, and I made a show of looking around, "Are you sure he's coming? It's late and I must say this isn't the safest place for a lovely girl to be waiting alone."

She blushed and glanced down before putting her guarded expression back on display, "I'll be just fine." 

"You sure? If you want I could give you a lift home, or at least to the general area, I don't want to overstep any boundaries." I said with a sincere expression, and she took the bait all too easily, her guard dropping a little.

"That's nice of you, but my boyfriend will be here soon, and I really don't want to trouble you."

I held her gaze for a moment before looking down at my watch as though checking the time before looking back up at her, "Well, if you're-"

"Wait," she said, biting her bottom lip, "I'll take your offer, I can't get ahold of my boyfriend anyways."

I smiled warmly, inwardly glowing triumphantly as I unlocked the car, and she climbed into the passenger seat. "So, where am I headed?" I asked, pulling back onto the dark road.

"Just go straight and I'll tell you when to turn." She said, and after a moment of driving in silence she spoke up again, "So, do you have a girlfriend?"

"I did, but she up and left, haven't seen her in three months." I lied, catching the sympathetic look she gave me.

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"No, it's alright, shit happens, how about your boyfriend? What's he like?"

She sighed, "Actually, he's sort of," she paused, "difficult, I guess."

I glanced over at her, "Oh, is he mean to you?"

She didn't answer, I stopped at a stop sign, no other car in sight.

"Sounds like he's an ass, no offense, if I were lucky enough to have a girl like you I would treat her right, you know, with respect." I said, looking over at her with a soft smile.

Her eyes darted down to my lips, and all too easily she was leaning in, pressing her lips to mine, I pulled back, looking at her intently, "I could make you forget about him if that's what you want."

"Yes," she gasped, "make me forget."

I placed a kiss against her thin lips, before whispering in a gravelly voice, "Let's go somewhere we won't be seen."

She nodded immediately, and I sped up, turning down a dirt road, I knew this town better than the back of my hand, and if I went about half a mile down this road we'd be far enough away for no one to interrupt, but close enough at the same time.

Once I got to the destination I quickly stopped the car, killed the ignition, and next thing I know she unbuckled herself and pressed her lips roughly against mine, and I kissed her back just as passionately.

 

**Present Time**

 

My lips molded roughly against hers as I moved my hand into her dirty blonde hair, and I pulled away, gripping the hair tightly in my hand and yanking her head back.

"That hurts!" She gasped out in shock, and I smirked darkly, throwing her to the ground by her hair, her body hitting the hard dirt with a dull thud.

"I knew you'd be easy, but come on, you practically begged for me to do this to you." I said as she tried to scramble to her feet, but my foot connected hard with her ribs, causing her to roll onto her back with a yelp of pain.

I reached down to grab her foot, holding tight as she flailed in an attempt to dislodge me, but despite her efforts I managed to snap the bone with a loud crack, and a shrill scream of agony from her.

"Yeah, yeah, I bet it hurts like a bitch." I said, kicking her stomach once more before crouching down to look into her eyes, which were blown wife with fear, "Don't move, or I'll try to break your knees next." I said, brushing a lock of her hair from her face with a smile.

She screamed out profanities, calling for help, but girls with bigger lungs than her have tried and failed, all she was going to do was hurt her throat. I popped the trunk, grabbing my toolbox and opening it, sifting through the various weapons I stored in it.

I grinned, picking up my small tomahawk, spinning it in one hand, "I think I'll use this one tonight." I chuckled, pulling on a pair of disposable gloves and holding the tomahawk tightly.

I walked over to the poor girl, who was trying to drag herself away, her screams faded to whimpers as I crouched in front of her. I showed her the sharp blade of my weapon, "I'm going to use this to slaughter you like a lamb." I said plainly, rolling her forcefully onto her back, "I'm going to test my aim out, if I were you I wouldn't struggle."

I smiled sweetly at her before taking a few large steps back, "Just want to be out of the spray zone." I joked with a light chuckle, and she whimpered in reply.

"Please, don't do this, I won't tell, let me go, please just let me go." She begged through desperate tears.

"Awe," I said, making a pouty face, "you poor animal, I could let you go, but where would the fun be in that?" 

I spun the tomahawk in my hand, taking aim before throwing it, the weapon spinning through the air, the blade burying itself in the ground next to her head with a thud.

She screamed, and I quickly retrieved it and stepped back, throwing it again, having it land right next to her leg, earning a squeal from her.

I chucked, "Okay, that's enough play time, it's bad manners."

I picked up the tomahawk, stepped back, drew my arm back and threw it with deadly accuracy, the blade burying itself in her head with a wet thunk, cutting off her scream. 

I went back to my trunk, grabbing a rag and returning to yank the tomahawk out of its head, wiping the dark red blood off the blade as thoroughly as I could, when I got home I would clean it off with cleaning alcohol.

I threw the gloves down on the ground, the coppery smell of blood hanging in the air as I grabbed a gasoline can from my trunk, pouring some of the liquid over the girl, along with the gloves, setting it back in my car and grabbing a cigarette from the box in my pocket, and lighting it with a match.

I took a slow hit from the cig, feeling the familiar sharpness of the draw, followed by the calming release as I breathed out the smoke slowly before striking another match, and tossing it onto the girl, immediately sparking a fire that spread quickly.

I leaned against the car, watching the fire consume all the evidence I could have left at the scene until my cigarette was done, and I put it out on my arm, in a line next to four other burn marks.

It was my way of having a souvenir, each burn was from a successful kill. I put the cigarette bud in my pocket, knowing better than to leave it behind. 

I climbed back into my car, and drove away, leaving the fire, and my kill, behind as I quickly drove back into town, heading towards my next destination.

I sighed as I found a parking place at none other than Michael Clifford's house, I wanted to get closer to the older lad, as well as snatch myself a little something from his dad's room.

I knocked on the door, and a few seconds later Michael answered, music blasting from the house as he grinned, "Looks like you decided to come after all." 

I nodded sheepishly, "I figured it might be fun."

He laughed, grabbing my arm and yanking me inside, "Come on, let's get you wasted and then you'll be having some real fun, man." 

My heartbeat quickened, and I caught myself staring at the other boy's handsome features for a little too long. I shook my head slightly, trying to clear the feeling from my mind, and next thing I know the dyed red head was giving me a solo cup that was full of what was most likely vodka.

Michael and I began having small talk, and the older boy began to ramble off about something, I wasn't exactly listening though, I was far too busy observing the way his plump lips formed each word he spoke, the way he used his hands to animate his story, the way his deep green eyes lit up with the conversation.

It was nearly hypnotizing to watch the way Michael spoke, the way he moved, it was beyond interesting to watch him be himself, he seemed so comfortable, so alive, but at the same time, it seemed fake. 

I somewhat of an expert in faking emotion, I've had plenty of practice on the subject for I was used to faking my own emotions and studying how to make them look as real as possible. 

His cheery smile was forced, it lasted a little too long, and the corners of his eyes didn't crinkle like when a person actually smiles, the happiness failed to reach his eyes. I could also tell he was shaking slightly, what must have been nervous energy, he seemed comfortable, but I could tell he was faking it.

I was completely infatuated with the older man, everything about him interested me, and I was caught off guard by the strong attraction I felt to him, I wasn't used to feeling anything towards other people.

"You look really hot." Michael said with a smirk, snapping me out of my observational trance as people pushed drunkenly around us, I looked down a though I would be blushing, took a large drink of the alcohol with a cringe before replying to the other boy.

"Thank you?" I said, and his gaze flicked down to my lips and back to my eyes. Something clicked in my mind, maybe instead of trying to sneak into that damn detective's room to grab something personal, I could get myself into Michael's room and take something there. I resisted the urge to grin malevolently, instead stepping closer to Michael, close enough to feel the heat coming from his body.

I downed the rest of my drink, set it on the table beside me, and stepped closer to Michael, my hands landing on his waist as I pulled his hips against mine, hearing his breath hitch as my lips trailed softy over his neck as I murmured, "I look hot, huh?"

"Mmm, straight up sexy." He breathed in reply, and I not so subtly ran my hand down his chest, sucking softly on the smooth skin of his neck, moving slowly as my hand trailed down his shirt.

"Stop me if I do anything wrong." I said, my hand moving down to palm him, his head laying on my shoulder with a soft sigh that was nearly a moan, leaning into my touch as I felt him getting hard.

I moved my lips over his jawline, his cheek, the corner of his mouth, before finally pressing my lips to his, and I quickly decided that Michael's lips were very much better than that girl's.

Within five minutes I found myself in Michael's room, his back pressed against the now-locked door as our lips molded perfectly together, my hands traveled under his shirt, running across the soft skin of his abdomen.

My lips traveled to his neck, and I began sucking gingerly on the skin there, planting my leg firmly between Michael's as I ground against him, the right amount of friction and pressure eliciting a soft grunt followed by a moan from the older boy as I grinned against his neck.

I continued my movements against him, biting my lip to hold back a moan, my jeans feeling tighter and more cramped as my hands worked to rid Michael of his clothes, slinging his shirt behind me.

I stepped back from him, dropping to my knees, my hands fumbling with the button on his jeans, pausing for a moment to look up with innocent eyes to ask, "Is this okay?"

Michael's plump lips parted as he breathed heavily, "Fuck, yeah, yeah it's okay."

I pulled his jeans down to his ankles along with his underwear, biting my lip as I wrapped my hand firmly around his length, spreading the pre-cum leaking from the tip with my thumb before pumping his length a few times. I started from the base, licking a long stripe up before wrapping my lips around the tip, sucking teasingly as my hands cupped his balls.

I sank down further, taking as much of him as I could for now, fisting the rest of his length as I hollowed my cheeks, pumping my head up and down, feeling his hands thread through my hair, a hot moan tumbling off Michael's lips as he tugged at the blonde strands, making me moan, which caused Michael to gasp out a curse.

I moved away, looking up at the older boy once again with an innocent expression, "You can fuck my mouth, if you want to."

His mouth fell open for a moment before he said, "Fuck, that's so hot." I closed my lips around his length, and his hands remained tangled in my hair as he thrusted his hips slowly into my mouth, my eyes screwing shut as I took his length, fighting the urge to gag, as my nose pressed up against his hips as he bottomed out with a deep moan, tugging at my hair as he pulled back enough for me to take in a breath before thrusting his hips, my eyes tearing up slightly as he did.

I could tell Michael's high was coming fast, his legs shaking as he let out louder moans, but before he could get the chance to cum I pulled away suddenly.

He ground his teeth in frustration, his green eyes darkening, "Why'd you stop?"

I stood, tucking my head into his neck and breathing in a low tone, "Because daddy's going to fuck you real nice."

Michael's legs almost gave out, but instead he kicked his jeans from his ankles while I quickly disposed of my own clothes, pressing my lips against his plump ones and mumbled, "Jump, I've got you."

He did as I asked, his arms wrapping around my neck as I carried him to the bed, practically tossing him down as I hovered over him. "Lube?" I asked.

"Top drawer on the left." He said eagerly, and I quickly retrieved it, squirting some into my hand.

"Gonna prep you up real nice baby." I breathed, moving in between his legs and working a slick finger into his hole, hearing him grunt in discomfort as I opened him up.

Eventually I had three fingers pumping in and out of him as soft pants left Michael's mouth, the older boy was truly a sight to take in as i removed my fingers, eliciting a whimper from the other lad, which turned into a low, dragged out moan as I replaced my fingers with my length, slowly bottoming out.

My eyes closed as I practically saw stars, Michael's tight heat wrapped so tantalizingly around me, and I had to catch my breath before I heard him give me the go ahead, and began to pull out before thrusting sharply back into him, breathing out a string of curses.

I planted my arms next to his head, my lips sucking on the skin of his neck as I fucked him, hot moans tumbling from both his lips and mine as we picked up a solid rhythm.

"Fuck, fuck, oh my god, so good." Michael gasped out as I thrusted into him at a quick pace, feeling my own high begin to rise in the pit of my stomach.

"Hold on, baby," I panted, "hold on to daddy." 

Michael let out a cry of pleasure as his arms wrapped around my neck, the older boy quickly becoming undone beneath me, and with a sharp thrust he hit his high, clenching hard around me, and my vision went white as I hit my own high.

I rolled off him, panting to catch my breath as Michael stood, his slim, sweaty body a beautiful sight as the dyed red head disappeared into what must have been the bathroom to clean himself up.

I quickly pulled my clothes back on, about to rush out before Michael came back when I saw something on his shelf. It was nothing big, just a smooth black rock that had an engraving in the surface which said, "To Michael, love Dad."

I grinned, snatching the rock quickly, shoving it into my pocket as I rushed out of the room, pushing through the thick crowd of dancing teens and nearly running out the door.


	5. Woke Up on the Wrong Sode of Existence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a hot mess

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's 4 in the morning hehe kill me

(Sorry, but I am totally not sorry about anything that happens in this chapter whoops, love you guys)

 

I am completely, absolutely, one hundred percent fucked.

No matter what I do, no matter how damn hard I try I simply can't get that stupid, red-headed Michael fucking Clifford out of my head. Just the very thought of his soft, plump lips against mine, his pale skin under my hands, his bright green eyes staring into mine, it's driving me insane. Or more so, at least.

It's been three whole days, that's seventy-two hours, that's 4,320 minutes, 259,200 god damned seconds! He should be long gone from my mind, but he's not, completely the opposite actually, and now to make it worse I'm standing here outside of school like an idiot, contemplating whether to enter the hellish place or not. The speakers hummed to life and a loud chime spread through the air, cueing the students that they had six minutes to get to class before the next tardy bell would ring.

I sighed heavily, not bothering to clear the distinct scent of cigarettes that clung to my clothes, a white Blink-182 shirt, and a pair of ripped dark wash jeans. I hesitated for just a few moments longer before pulling the front door to the school open, adjusting my backpack as I headed toward my first class, pushing through the crowd with my head down, and I swung the door open, only to be face to face with none other than a certain green-eyed red head.

Michael's eyes widened in surprise, but before he could say anything I pushed past him, not daring to look the older boy in the eye as I entered the classroom, moving to sit in the back right corner. I sat in the corner of each classroom, as strange as it may sound, it makes me anxious to have someone sitting behind me. It's your natural instincts, son, trust them over anything, they'll keep you sharp, just like your old man. 

My dear old dad's voice echoed in my mind, my dad would probably win the award for 'Least Loving and Caring Father in the World', but what can I expect when I have a sociopathic serial killer as a father. I could never love that man, but he taught me everything I know, and even though his whereabouts have been unknown to me for the past four years, the taxes for the house are always paid even though I'm the only one who lives there now. 

From time to time large stacks of money will appear on the kitchen counter, but every time dear old daddy came for a visit there would be absolutely no evidence he was ever there, other than the little gifts he would leave. Well, at least I think they're gifts, sometimes he'd help me out by sending some photos and information of an easy kill, sometimes he'd just leave a fat stack of cash, sometimes he would give me a new dagger, or other various weapons. 

There was one time he left a sleek, silver gun, along with a muffler that looked like it had to cost at least a couple hundred bucks, with a note that stated, 'Just in case things get rough, now be a good boy and burn this message.' That was the only time my dad showed his trust in me, handwritten letters that if given to the police, may eventually be a piece of damning evidence, he knew I wouldn't turn him in, it had nothing to do with caring for each other, but mutual respect between two murderers.

I snapped back into reality as a large textbook slammed onto the wooden desk I was sitting on, my eyes darting up to see my math teacher, Mrs. Nora with an annoyed look on her leathery, wrinkled face, and when she spoke her voice quivered, another clue to show just how old she was, "If you would care to pay attention, mister Hemmings, maybe you will learn something that can help you pass this class."

Anger burned in my chest at her rude tone, but I simply smiled softly, my eyes glaring darkly into hers, as I murmured a gentle, "My apologies, ma'am."

The older woman was taken aback by the smile and tone of voice which deeply contrasted with the dark glint of my eyes, and she looked as though she was holding back a flinch, a momentary expression of shock passing over her features, before she tore her gaze away from mine and walked back up to the front of the classroom, looking slightly disturbed. The other boys and girls in the room looked from me to the teacher with puzzled expressions, but I ignored them easily, writing down the notes that were on the board in shaky handwriting.

I waited patiently for the bell to signal the end of first period, and when it did I was out of my chair and at the door before it even finished blaring, rushing through the halls at a quick pace, only for my friend Calum to fall in step beside me. "Hey Lukey," he said, his gentle brown eyes showing concern as he placed a hand on my shoulder, stopping my quick pace, both of us standing in the hallway as other kids pushed around us, "what's wrong?" He asked sternly, and I sighed, looking away from his face and biting my lip silently.

Next thing I know my other 'friend', an older, somewhat geeky boy named Ashton appeared next to Calum, his hazel colored eyes searching my face, flicking between the tan boy and I before he asked, "What's going on?"

"I don't know, Lukey's upset but he won't tell me why." Calum said, and I groaned exaggeratedly.

"Guys, I'm fine," I told them with a sincere look, I don't exactly care for my friends, but in a way I do like them, as in I would never harm them, in fact I don't want them to be harmed either, which is why I try so hard to keep my 'other' life away from them.

Ashton's eyes darkened slightly, his brow furrowing as he leaned in closer to me, his tone becoming serious and stern instead of the usual lightness it carried, "Luke, why do you smell like cigarettes?"

I pulled back from my friends, a defensive glare forming on my features, "It was just some guy before school at the diner, he smoking next to me and the smell sticks." 

"Luke Robert Hemmings don't you dare lie to us." Calum said sassily, raising an eyebrow at me, and my face crinkled in defiance.

"Just shove off about it." I muttered, and Ashton stepped forward in a way that was nearly aggressive.

"Luke your breath smells like cigarettes so fucking spit it out," he said, catching me by surprised because the older lad rarely cursed, and his voice softened after that, "Please, we're just worried about you."

"Yeah, lately you've been disappearing for hours at a time, and we can't get ahold of you, and now you smell like you've been smoking." Calum chimed in, running a hand through his dark brown hair.

"Just fuck off!" I spat, ignoring their shocked, hurt expressions as I shoved past them, my next class completely off my mind as I shoved my way through the halls until I reached a door that led to one of the school's back alleyways.

I clenched my jaw in anger, fishing a cigarette out of my pocket and grabbing my lighter, sparking it a few times until it lit up, and resting the cig in between my lips, I lit the end, taking in a deep breath, feeling the familiar sharp draw it gave, followed by a stress relieving buzz. I don't know how long I was smoking it, but when it ran out I still felt stressed, but I knew I didn't have enough time to smoke another, so I improvised.

Instead of lifting my left sleeve up, where the burn marks from my kills were, I lifted my right sleeve, pressing the hot end of the bud down on my skin, letting out a small hiss, but the pain acted like an immediate stress reliever. Suddenly the door swung open, which I ignored because I simply didn't care about who it was at the time, until I heard them yell out my name, and a large hand gripped my wrist, pulling the cigarette away from my wrist, and shaking my hand until I dropped it.

I looked up with wide eyes to see Ashton and Calum, their expressions full of shock and what looked like pain, but why would they be hurt? It's not like I'm hurting them, I just didn't understand. "Hey, what's the big deal, guys?" I said in an annoyed turn, and Ashton shoved me back against the wall, taking my right hand in his and examining the bad burn mark left from the cigarette bud.

"Luke why would you do this to yourself?" Ashton asked, his voice thick with sadness, and I yanked my arm away from his.

"What the hell does it have to do with you, Ash? It's none of your business!" I spat, and Calum looked like he was close to crying, while Ashton looked straight-up upset.

Ashton's hand gripped my arm firmly, and my anger flared up worse than it already was, I just woke up on the wrong side of existence today, but in anger I grabbed his wrist, turned it backwards in a grip that I know makes it feel like your wrist is going to break, and then I knocked his arms out of the way, grabbing his shirt and ramming him into the wall, my fist raised as if to strike.

And then my mind caught up to my actions, and I actually saw Ash's surprised expression, the fear in his eyes as someone, who he had thought was a frail, lanky boy, just handed his ass to him in a matter of heartbeats. I let go of his shirt, staggering back from the older boy, looking from him to Calum with wide eyes before bolting away from them, away from the school, just away from everything, and I didn't stop running until I reached the nearest little outside strip mall, stopping in front of the Pizza Hut to catch my breath.

What the hell was I doing? I almost hit Ashton... I ran my hand over my face and through my hair, shaking my head at my own actions. I was about to head to class, when an arm grabbed my shoulder in a vice grip, yanking me back hard, causing me to stumble, and trip over a foot that was extended out, tangling my legs as I fell, landing on the ground with a thud.

"Mother fucker." I spat, my anger rising again as I quickly stood up, turning to face none other than Jared, my good old bully, of course he was skipping school and came to this damn pizza place for lunch, but when he caught the murderous look on my face, he seemed rather taken aback. However, that wasn't enough to keep him from throwing a punch at my jaw, but I wasn't having that. Not today.

I caught his fist by the wrist, pulling his arm over my shoulder so that his body was against my back, leaning my weight forward and pulling his arm, causing him to flip over me, and I purposefully dropped him on his head, climbing on top of him, one hand twisting his shirt, while I raised the other in a fist, punching him once, twice in the nose with a sharp cracking sound, and a yell of pain coming from the boy underneath me. I didn't stop there, even when I heard one of Jared's little asshole friends yelling at me, that is, until I was being dragged off of him, and thrown back.

I staggered, trying to maintain my balance, but it was no use and I fell anyways, hitting the ground hard, my head smacking back against the pavement with a crack, pain coursing through me. I managed to clamber up right about the same time Jared did, and although his nose was broken, and blood streaked down his face, he jumped at me, catching me by surprise and striking my jaw hard. His shoulder hit my stomach, knocking the breath out of me as he charged into me with a furious yell, slamming my back against the stone wall, the pain enough to black out my vision for a few heartbeats.

I grabbed Jared's shirt, forcing him to flip over so his back was against the wall, my left fist slamming into his face hard, and I was about to strike him again when a surprised voice called out, "Luke!"

I turned my head in confusion to see Michael standing there with wide eyes, the red headed boy staring at my bloodied fists as I pummeled Jared into tomorrow, shit! I thought, now how am I supposed to get on his good side? That's when a sharp, blazing pain ripped through my stomach, a choked cry tumbling from my lips as I staggered back away from the other boy, my mind unable to comprehend what had happened for a moment as I looked at Jared in shock.

He was holding a knife that must have been in his jacket pocket or something, the blade had to be a good three or four inches long, and I felt a wave of sickness as I realized that it was red, all the way up to the black and silver hilt. I looked down in shock to see my white shirt turning a dark, vibrant shade of red as blood seeped out of a gash in my abdomen, soaking my shirt fast. I looked up in shock, my eyes connecting with Michael's, who was running forward with a look of horror as my legs gave out beneath me, and I fell to the pavement.

My jaw dropped in a silent cry of pain, but I was dimly aware of someone grabbing my shoulders, lifting my head off the ground and setting it on their knee, green eyes blown wide with fear staring directly into mine. "Michael," I coughed, the metallic taste of blood in my mouth, and I realized I was coughing up blood that spilled from my mouth, down the side of my face, but I couldn't make myself move.

"Luke! Luke, look at me, they called an ambulance, you're going to be okay." Michael said, but I could barely comprehend his words, I was too busy staring at his face, his eyes, his lips.

"Didn't know, he had, knife." I managed to gasp out, a sharp stab of pain cascading up my spine, causing me to cry out, my vision was blurring, my head was pounding from the blood loss, and I was fading fast. Michael was saying, no, he was screaming something at me, his hands gripping at my shoulders as he did so, and I know he said something along the lines of, 'dammit hold on, where the fuck is that ambulance?!' 

I was completely loopy from bloodloss, I couldn't make out what anyone was saying anymore, all I heard was the blood roaring in my ears, and my eyes were rolling back into my skull, the image of Michael's bright green eyes wide with panic being the last thing I heard before I passed out.


	6. Close Call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look double update, and it's still like 4 in the morning I need sleep lol

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

The odd sounds of unfamiliar machines cut through the thick silence that seemed to hang in room as I awoke, bright lights causing my head to spin as disorientation clouded my brain, my thoughts sluggish as I blinked against the harsh light.

I groaned as dull pain made my stomach ache, the memories of what happened slowly returning to my foggy head as I looked around the hospital room, the walls pained a glaring white that made my head hurt, the various machines on the left side of the stuff hospital bed I was laying in, which were connected to me by thin wires, reading my vitals and who knows what else.

I winced as I tried to adjust my laying position, looking to my right to see a boy with bright, dyed red hair sleeping in the chair right beside my bed, curled up in a ball with his knees against his chest. I shakily reached toward him, grabbing his arm weakly, my limbs feeling strange and numb from whatever they were pumping into my blood stream.

Michael jerked awake, his green eyes opening wide as they fixed on me, his plump lips forming my name as he breathed out, "Luke, oh my god you're awake, are you feeling okay? Do you remember what happened?"

I was very much confused at why the older lad looked to be so concerned for me as I replied in a soft tone, "I was stabbed, cheap bastard pulled a knife in a fist fight." I muttered, "Can't believe I let my guard drop like that." I said bitterly, shaking my head and cursing myself inwardly.

"Seriously, that's what you're worried about? Letting your guard drop? How about the fact that you were fucking stabbed!" Michael exclaimed, looking at me, green eyes glimmering in disbelief.

"It wasn't that bad." I said, biting my tongue to stop myself from telling the other boy that I had been through far worse things than a stab wound. The red head just shook his head with a small frown on his face, and I finally realized that his shirt had dark, dried blood stains on it. My blood.

"Sorry about your shirt." I muttered sheepishly, and the older boy looked down before giving me an incredulous look.

"I don't care about the fucking shirt, Luke, you were stabbed and the psycho who did it took off running!" Michael said sternly, taking my hand in his small, soft ones, running his thumb over my palm, an action that sent electricity through my body, his touch strangely comforting.

"He's just a coward, I was kicking his ass until he pulled a cheap shot like that." I said, looking over at the older lad, examining the expression on his face, the way his eyebrows creased told me he was concerned, and I looked for any other tell-tale marks that would define what the boy was thinking.

I was surprised when he spoke next, his voice low, as though he were talking more to himself than to I, "God, do you even care about what happens to you?"

I frowned slightly, pondering the question for a few, silent, moments before saying in a tone that carried the slightest hint of a challenge, "Do you?"

Michael's green eyes dropped into a darker shade of emerald and his face contorted into defiance, "This isn't about me, and it's not polite to answer a question with a question."

"Answer my question and I will answer yours." 

He sighed, his eyes meeting mine directly as he said, "Yes, I care about what happens to me."

I smiled sadly, "You truly are a terrible liar, your eyebrow tilts up a bit whenever you tell a lie."

Michael looked taken aback for a moment before he said in an even tone, "Answer my question."

"Fine," I said with a slight nod of my head, "to answer your previous question, I have a hell of a lot of unfinished business, and I don't plan on going anywhere until it is all taken care of."

"That doesn't exactly answer my question, you know." He said, his voice carrying a hint of annoyance.

"I know," I said cockily, "but that is the answer I give, whether you take it or leave it is up to you."

"You're strange, but I get the feeling that you already know that." The red haired lad said, shaking his head slightly.

"Maybe I'm psychic." I said, and he rolled his eyes with a scoff, but we were interrupted when a nurse came in to drop off a bowl of what looked like cheap chicken noodle soup with crackers, and tocheck up on the machines and make sure everything was running smoothly.

"You have a cat and a dog, but the cat is a bit aggressive, isn't it? Cats are like that sometimes." I said, flashing the surprised nurse a smile.

"How did you-"

"Does your husband know you're not into men?" 

"H-how-"

"That would be all, ma'am.'' I said with a smile, and she hesitated before leaving the room with a bewildered look on her face. 

"How did you do that?" Michael exclaimed, his green eyes wide with shock.

"It wasn't hard, I knew about the dog because of the short black hairs on the legs of her uniform, and the back of her hand had cat scratches, as well as fluffier looking grey fur that clung to her clothes. As for her affair with another woman, she had a tan line where a ring would be, and she smelled of two different perfumes, not a lot of ladies put on two entirely different perfumes in the morning. Also, she was wearing no lipstick, and there was a small smear of red lipstick on the side of her neck, not many guys wear lipstick and go kissing on a girl's neck." I said as though it were simple to gather the information I did.

"That went right over my head, but okay." Michael said, not wanting to think too much about how Luke could observe all of that in just a few seconds.

"My dad stressed the importance of being able to read people, I grew up in a strict household that involved a lot of work in certain areas of thought." I said, half to myself, and Michael nodded slowly.

"The hospital called your dad, he said he would come by sometime today, I think." The red head said, and my eyes widened, and I immediately sharpened up, moving the tray of food way from me, discarding it to the side table as I winced, sitting up. "Whoa! Luke, what are you doing?"

"My dad is coming, I have to get the hell out of here before he-"

The door opened, and I froze, my face mimicking that of a deer caught in the headlights of an incoming car, frozen in place as doom barrels toward it. A tall, broad shouldered man walked into the room, a tight leather jacket clinging to his muscular form, he was a tall giant of a man, taller than Luke, and his hair was a dark blonde, brushed back away from his face. He looked young, probably younger than he really was, his high cheekbones, clean shaven face, and well molded jaw made him look young and handsome.

He looked a lot like Luke, they had the same nose, the same high cheekbones, and the same broad shoulders, but his eyes were a deep blue that were almost black, he had a far more stern look to his features, and he didn't have any smile wrinkles beside his mouth, it looked as though the man had never smiled a day in his life. His dark eyes fell on Michael, and I noticed the boy tense.

"It would be very kind if you were to leave, so that I may have a conversation with my son." He said, his voice deep and rough, with a certain kind of natural authority to it, and Michael was at a loss for words as he hesitated, his hand tightening around mine.

"Michael," I murmured, my voice cold, "let me have a moment with my father." 

He gave me a helpless look before finally standing up and walking out of the room, a thick tension hanging in the room as the door shut quietly behind the red head. My dear old dad's harsh gaze surveyed me as I sat there frozen, I hadn't seen the man in years, and neither of us were saying a word for a long time. 

I broke the silence first with a hesitant and steady, "Sir."

He didn't move as he spoke, "Aren't you going to stand when addressing your authoritative figure?"

I gulped, slowly removing the wires from my body and standing, clenching my jaw in pain as I did so, looking him in the eyes, holding my breath to keep from showing my pain. He nodded slowly, "That's more like it," he stepped closer, close enough that I could feel his breath on my face, "you ended up here because you're weak, and you allowed yourself to take on damage."

I didn't reply, meeting his dark gaze evenly as he continued on, "I taught you everything I know, and you make a stupid mistake such as this one, tell me the rules."

I swallowed hard, my throat feeling dry as I began to recite to him the words he had basically carved into my brain since he deemed me old enough to start learning, at age ten. "Rule number one; never develop feelings for the animals you hunt. Rule number two; never allow yourself to be caught in a lie. Rule number three; when hunting, show no mercy. Rule number four; never let your prey escape. Rule number five; never let your guard down. Rule number six; never skip protocol. Rule number seven; never get lazy with the clean up. Rule number eight; never let someone figure out who you are. Rule number nine; always have a good alibi. Rule number ten; have a solid backup plan."

'That's enough," my father interrupted, his stare cold as ever as his voice gained a more threatening tone, "what was rule number five?"

"Never let your guard down." I said tensely, clenching my fist at my side.

"Again."

"Never let your guard down."

"Again."

"Father."

His eyes sparked, and his voice became more of a threatening growl, "I said, again."

I paused for a moment before replying in a strained voice, "Never let your guard down."

He nodded slowly, stepping forward, far too close for my comfort, but I didn't flinch, I couldn't afford to, and I fought with the urge to retreat a step back from the threatening man, "Don't disappoint me again."

"Yes, sir." I said, swallowing hard, my heart pounding as he drew back, turning around and heading out the door without a single glance back at me, and before the door even shut Michael was rushing back into the room, his green eyes widening when he saw me out of bed.

"Luke! You're not supposed to be out of bed yet!" The red haired boy exclaimed, nearly running over to me, "Are you okay? That man didn't hurt you or anything, did he?" He asked with a serious expression that I hadn't seen on his face before.

"No," I sighed, sitting on the bed with a wince, "Of course not, he's just stern, not cruel." I told the older lad, at least not to me, I thought, memories of helping him with his 'hunting' as a kid flashing through my mind, causing me to close my eyes tight and shake my head as though I could shake the memories away from my mind.

"Honestly, your father gave me a bad vibe, he just seems, like, dangerous or something." Michael said, shivering slightly, as though a cold rush had run up his back. 

My gaze turned serious, "Michael, if you ever see him around, stay away from him." I said, and he looked into my eyes, as though trying to read the emotions behind them, but he nodded, and didn't ask any questions.

"You slept for about a day and a half." The red haired lad said, sitting on the chair beside the hospital bed, wringing his hands nervously.

"I'm still trying to piece together why you're here." I said, and I was surprised when Michael's face contorted in a look that was almost hurt.

"Luke, I saw you get stabbed, why the hell wouldn't I be here?"

"You barely know me, we've only spoken with each other a few times." I pointed out to him, trying to get a read on his emotions. "You aren't here because we're the best of friends, so why are you here?"

"Then it's because I'm a good person, who cares about other people." He huffed, "I don't have any secret motives behind my being here, I'm just here because I'm a decent human being who cares about others."

"I'm sorry." I said, tilting my head and observing the way his features changed from annoyance to confusion. "I didn't mean to offend you." I clarified, brushing my hair back with one hand as I looked into the older lad's eyes.

"How do you do that?" He asked suddenly, catching me slightly off guard, "It's like you dissect a person just by looking at them."

"I had a good teacher." I replied simply, not dropping my eye contact with the green-eyed lad as I adjusted my position with a slight wince.

"What do you know about me?" Michael asked, his voice low and curious as he leaned back in his chair.

I glanced him over before saying, "You try hard to be the social butterfly everyone expects you to be, but considering the way you shake slightly, or wring your hands, or tap your fingers against your leg when talking to other people, especially groups of people shows that you have quite a bit of social anxiety. You dye your hair all of these flamboyant colors, not only because it may be fun to do so, but because it makes you feel less invisible. People comment on vibrantly dyed hair often, it makes you feel noticed, you kind of put up a cocky, cool guy act so that people don't see the man that lies underneath."

I paused for a moment, my eyes searching his features before I continued, "You don't want people to know that beneath your socializing, happy falsetto, there's a person who's hurting, a person who is sad and self-conscious and nervous, a person who feels alone, and invisible, and someone who is-"

"Stop. That's enough, just fucking stop." He snapped, anger flashing over his face as he looked away.

"Anger is a secondary emotion to sadness." 

"Just shut up, Luke!" He said, standing up and shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans, heading for the door, and in that moment I cursed myself for obviously going too far, dammit, I totally blew it!

"Michael, wait." I said quickly, and before I knew it I was off the bed and on my feet, my hand on his shoulder to stop him in his tracks. "I'm sorry, that was a real dick thing for me to do, I know excuses aren't worth shit, but I swear when I flip into that observational mindset it's like switching a lever."

Michael shrugged my hand off his shoulder and continued his beeline toward the door, I knew I had to do something, and I had to do it fast, if Michael walks away hating me it could ruin my whole plan to get to that damn detective father of his. "A lot of times I have a hard time feeling emotion," I began, and he stopped in his tracks, "I have a habit of being a selfish asshole, and I make more mistakes than I have time to fix. I started smoking. The same day I got in a fist fight and ended up stabbed, I almost punched one of my best friends."

"Sometimes I feel so empty of emotion I just get angry and frustrated instead, and I spend so much time learning about other people that I don't turn that observational judgement on myself. For a guy who tries to learn all I can about the feelings and emotions of other people, I too often disregard those emotions when I talk to people. Looking back on what I said to you, I feel like a complete fucking idiot, even though you asked what I know about you, I should've known that pointing out the things you try to hide would upset you."

Michael turned his head slightly, and I could see him biting the inside of cheek, "I'm sorry Michael, I didn't think, and I made a complete asshole out of myself, and I truly am sorry for that." Well that's not a complete lie, I may not feel guilty or sorry at all, but I did make a complete asshole out of myself.

He sighed and turned around, brushing his hair back with one hand before taking my hand and pulling me toward the hospital bed, muttering, "Come on, asshole, you shouldn't be standing." 

I grinned darkly while his back was turned, that could have been a disaster if he had walked away, I can't afford to make anymore close calls, I have to proceed with caution and use my brain or else this whole thing may fall apart.


End file.
